


There's a Method to My Madness

by sebastianstanstongue



Category: Captain America (Movies) RPF
Genre: Awkwardness, Character Bleed, Docking, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:39:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5461976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebastianstanstongue/pseuds/sebastianstanstongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain America: Civil War on-set shenanigans. Chris realizes his feelings for Sebastian have changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a Method to My Madness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vlieger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlieger/gifts).



Scene forty-three, take seventeen. That's when he nearly gives himself away. The boredom is killing his soul, and Chris struggles to remind himself why he ever wanted to be a movie star in the first place. It's getting to that point in the day when the combination of repetition, fatigue, and endless waiting makes his brain just say “fuck it.” In a way, it's good. When he gets into that head space he's less controlling, more willing to take risks with his choices. And in a way it's bad. Because he's willing to take more risks with his choices and that shit could get him into some real trouble.

Like now, with take seventeen. It's him and Sebastian in one of those relatively quiet, character building moments. No fighting, no explosions, just Steve and Bucky catching up between the wars. It's one of the things he loves about the Russo's scripts: these little moments that aren't strictly necessary, but ultimately make the story so much richer and more human, like the scene with Fury in the elevator talking about his Gramps. No guarantee this one won't end up on the cutting room floor after all these damn takes, but that's life.

They're set up to go again, and action! Bucky's talking and Steve is leaning into his space, fixating on the curve of his mouth. Chris is pulled out of the moment when he looks up to see Sebastian staring at him kind of funny. He dials it back but it's too late. Sebastian seems a little wooden through the rest of the scene, and it's enough to convince him that he has totally fucked everything up.

The scene finally wraps and Sebastian doesn't wait around. He heads off quickly towards the trailers. Chris briefly debates the merits of leaving things lie, then sprints to catch up to him.

“Hey Seb!” Chris calls, snagging him by the elbow. “Are you okay? I mean, are we okay? I mean, is everything okay?”

_Smooth like Ex-Lax, Chris. Geez._

“Yeah, man.” Sebastian looks at him kind of startled. “Why wouldn't we...it be?”

“I don't know. It's just that, that last scene went a little sideways. You gave me a look there like I don't even know what.”

Sebastian shrugs it off. “You just caught me off guard is all. The way you were looking at me and leaning in – I thought you were going to kiss me or something.”

“Ha ha! Yeah, no.” Chris's heart is pounding like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I'm sorry, I was just trying something out, playing it a little different. I won't do that again if you...”

“No, I didn't say...I mean, I think it could work. Whatever you were doing. I just should have rolled with it.”

The awkward silence makes the back of Chris's neck prickly, and he rubs at it absently.

“So...karaoke tonight?”

“Fuck yeah,” Sebastian says, then puts his fake tough-guy face on, which convinces absolutely no one, and points an equally unconvincing finger for emphasis. “Tell Grillo he better show this time!”

Chris raises his hands in mock defensiveness and laughs. “Whatever you say, Sarge.” Sebastian grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way Chris always love to see. He watches Sebastian go, then breathes a sigh of quasi-relief.

 _Okay,_ _I_ _may have just dodged a bullet there._

He'll play it cool from now on – cool as Cap on ice. They'll go out, drink a few beers, have a few laughs. He figures it'll be easier for him to camouflage his weirdness in a herd of other goobers. With Mackie and Grillo there, Sebastian's not going to pay attention to his stammering ass.

_Everything will be fine._

For a moment, he almost believes it.

***

In the end, Grillo vetoed karaoke. Probably for the best – the dude can't carry a tune to save his life. Neither can Chris, but that's never stopped him. At least dancing (and drinking) is something they can all agree on. After a grinding week, they could all use a distraction and to let off some steam.

They converge on Vanquish in midtown Atlanta at 10:00. For awhile, Chris loses himself and all his worries in the music and dances with anyone who asks him to. The dull roar of the crowd seems to grow louder with every shot he tosses back. Once he's feeling loose and warm and completely toasted, he heads over to one of the private booths the Cap cast has commandeered and slides in next to Scarlet. She gives him a quick smile and a squeeze on the leg before turning back to Mackie's story about someone who did something funny at his bar one time...or whatever. Coming in half-way through it's impossible for Chris to catch more than the basic gist from the snippets he's hearing, so he stops trying.

Sebastian is deep in talk with Grillo on the other side of the table. They're taking turns leaning in, talking right in each other's ear in order to hear over the thump of the bass line and the noise of the crowd. Chris fixates on Sebastian's face, noting every wrinkle when he squints, the dark circles under his eyes from too much work and not enough sleep, the soft curve of his lips almost hidden in the dark scruffy beard. There's an ache in Chris's chest that has become all too familiar, though it's no less confusing for that familiarity.

_How did it come to this? Oh yeah, right..._

His little thought experiment: What would it be like to play this as if Steve Rogers had been in love with Bucky _and_ Peggy? It seemed like an innocuous 'what if' to play with at the time, something to alleviate the boredom and keep things fresh. Work's never seeped into private life before; he knows what's real and what's acting. So why the hell is this puppy dog crush happening now?

Sebastian looks over, catches his eye and Chris quickly looks away, suddenly ashamed of where his thoughts are heading. He leaves the table and heads for the bar, too impatient for another drink to wait for their server to come around again with another bottle.

_Get it together, you moron. Seb's just a friend, a colleague, nothing more._

And that's that. Until Sebastian casually touches his back as he sidles up to the bar to order and it sets off an incessant monologue that rattles around Chris's head the rest of the night.

_Of course we're just friends. And that's good. That's all we need to be, right? But he's so kind, and the way his mouth does the quirky thing. And the way that, even though now he's really coming into his own, there's that undercurrent of shyness and awkwardness and goofiness he sometimes lets you see. But this is ridiculous and there's no indication he's into you so stop. Just stop it, Chris. Just drink your beer, and laugh along to the stupid joke Mackie just told. Pay attention to someone else, everyone else. Hey, Johansson! You want a hug, right? Quit stealing glances at him. Don't be so disappointed when he calls it an early night, and for god's sake don't follow him out._

“Hey Seb, wait up. I'll walk out with you.”

_Nice going, meatball. You never fucking listen._

***

They don't have any scenes together the next day, but by mid-afternoon Chris has almost convinced himself that Sebastian's avoiding him. In the makeup trailer, in the down time between takes, when they break for lunch, Sebastian's keeping his distance and leaving shortly after Chris shows up. How else should he read it? It's enough to make anyone paranoid. Especially anyone with a guilty conscience.

Chris takes a slug of Gatorade while the crew mills about, futzing with the lighting. Even though he knows the fight choreography of the scene backwards and forwards, he should really be running through it again in his head while the stunt guys are doing their thing. Instead, he's replaying the events of the evening before, trying to figure out the moment he might have given himself away.

The last thing he wants is to fuck up their friendship or their working relationship. But what if this feeling is genuinely real? He's always playing it safe, maybe he should take a risk on this one?

_No. Absolutely not. Would never work. Should never work. Get your goddamn head out of your ass and back in the game._

“Hey.” Sebastian is suddenly behind him and he nearly chokes on the drink he's chugging.

“Oh, hey! What's up?”

Sebastian's face is serious and impassive. Chris can't read him at all and his guts tighten into knots, anticipating the worst.

_Here it comes. The jig is up. He's figured it out and he's pissed._

“So, I was wondering,” Sebastian says haltingly, like he's struggling a little to choose his words. “I've been working through the quinjet scene in my head and all, but it's just not clicking for me. You have time to run through it tonight, before we shoot it tomorrow?”

It takes a minute for Chris's brain to catch up to the fact that the major catastrophe he'd been preparing for has somehow been averted. The awkward pause makes Sebastian fidgety and he takes a step back.

“But if you're busy or something, it's okay. Never mind.”

_Play it cool, Chris. Don't be the eager beaver._

“Yeah, no. I'd be up for that. Just not too late – I can't be running another sleep deficit like last night. Not as young as I used to be.”

Sebastian brightens a little but doesn't quite smile. “Seven okay?”

“That works.”

Sebastian nods and walks away while Chris's mind continues to churn.

_Am I reading too much into it? Probably. The logical assumption here is that he's just very conscientious and wants to prepare. But there could be more to it. At any rate, he still wants to be in the same room as me, so that's something. Right?_

He's relieved when Julie from makeup accosts him with a powder brush. Time to get back to work.

***

Sebastian shows up at Chris's rented house at exactly at 7:02. Not that Chris was obsessively watching the clock or anything.

“Want a beer?” he offers as he leads Sebastian through into the living room.

“Do you really have to ask?”

Chris heads to the kitchen to grab a few bottles. He already has a two-beer-and-a-finger-of-Scotch head start to calm him down. It mostly worked, at least until Sebastian actually arrived. Now he's got this weird mish-mash of warmth and relaxation in his extremities while his core is a bundle of ever tightening knots.

He doesn't know why he should be so nervous. They're just two actors acting, bros being pros. Nothing to see here. He goes back to the living room and muddles through some small talk over half a beer, but it's obvious Sebastian's eager to get to work. They break out the scripts and start running lines, falling effortlessly into character. Soon it's just Bucky and Steve in that living room trying to figure out where exactly they stand with each other.

About a quarter of the way through the scene, Sebastian starts to go off script. He's done this before, a way of trying to get to the emotional heart of the scene by taking it further than what's written on the page. Chris rolls with it, and soon “Bucky” is careening headlong into a sea of self-loathing and remorse.

“I might as well just give myself up. I deserve whatever they're going to do to me.”

“Bucky, please don't do this. I can't lose you again!”

“Steve, don't. Okay? Just don't. You can't save everyone. And some people just aren't worth saving at all.”

Chris takes a deep breath and decides to go all in.

“I love you, Buck. You're the most important thing in my life. I guess... I guess you always have been.”

Sebastian's jaw clenches and he gets up and walks a few paces away, keeping his back turned. There's a long moment where Chris is sure he's blown it, but eventually Sebastian continues ad libbing.

“I should have died on that mountain,” he says quietly. “The world would have been better off if I had. You would have been better off.”

“Bucky, don't do this to yourself. They tortured you enough. You don't have to keep doing their job for them.”

“But how can I live with this? With everything I've done? I remember all of it, Steve. All of it! Every mission, every kill...”

Chris bounds up off the couch and grabs his arm, turning him roughly around. “Then remember this, too. Remember who you are. At your core – there is a light of loving presence and kindness. That's who we all are, and you're no different. No matter what happens to you, no matter what you do, there is an innate goodness in you this world can never touch. That's who you really are.”

There's a long pause, then Sebastian cracks a big smile.

“That's some impromptu Buddhist bullshit right there.”

The tension between them immediately dissolves into raucous laughter.

“Should I open my third eye or something?”

Chris feigns offense. “That's Hindu not Buddhist, you Philistine.”

Sebastian just smirks and heads back to the couch, Chris following. They plop down and start drinking again.

“Hey, you know what I was thinking? It's too bad they won't ever let Cap have a beard. I think it's a good look on you.”

“Oh yeah?” Why on earth had he been thinking about that? “Well, thanks.”

“Yeah. I can do the five-day scruff, but I don't think I could pull off the full Grizzly Adams look.”

“No, you really couldn't,” Chris agrees and takes a swig of his beer.

Sebastian gives him a playful, but hard, punch on the arm. “Gee, thanks a lot, asshole!”

“No, I just mean, your face is too pretty to be covered up like that.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth he knows it's a mistake, but Sebastian just laughs.

“You think I'm pretty?”

The heat of embarrassment kindles and flares in Chris's cheeks and the backs of his ears, and he does his awkward best to backtrack.

“Wow, yeah. That came out sounding way more gay than I meant it. Just forget about it, okay? Please?”

Sebastian's laughter fades. “I don’t want to forget about it.”

“No, you want to torture and humiliate me with it some more.”

He can't even meet Sebastian's eyes at this point. When he finally does, Sebastian's staring at him. No smile softens the corners of his mouth, or the hard line of his eyes, or the edge in his voice.

“Do you really think I'm pretty?” he demands.

Chris barks a too-loud laugh and tries to dodge the question with some mealy-mouthed bullshit, but Sebastian just looks at him expectantly. That either sobers him up or makes him drunk enough to say fuck it.

“Yeah, okay. I think you're beautiful.”

Sebastian rolls the beer bottle around in his hands, takes a slug, then sets it down on the table a little too hard.

_Oh shit, here it comes._

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Seb, I...”

“Do you?” He's being kind of aggressive and Chris isn't sure how to respond.

“Seb, stop. I'm sorry...”

“'Cause I'd let you.”

In the heavy silence, Chris can hear his heart pounding in his ears.

Sebastian shrugs and grins. “It's not like I never kissed a dude before.”

Chris sets his beer down, slowly, deliberately, trying to make sure his hand doesn't shake and mostly succeeding.

“Did I read this wrong?” Sebastian's brows furrow.

“No. No you did not.”

Sebastian leans in and Chris meets him half-way. He'd thought about this a hundred times at least – how soft Sebastian's lips would feel, the rough scratch of Sebastian's scruff, his hands tangling in Sebastian's hair and pulling him closer, deeper. The flesh and blood reality of it now chases away the flimsy ghosts of all his imaginings.

Before things get too hot and heavy, Chris breaks it off.

“Got an early call tomorrow?”

“I don't have anywhere to be until at least ten.”

“Good. That's good,” Chris murmurs, and goes in for another kiss.

***

Chris wakes up the next morning, one arm flung across Sebastian's bare chest. He can't see the alarm clock on the far nightstand, but judging by the light it's maybe eight or nine. Chris carefully rolls over and props himself on one elbow. Sebastian's still out. He's kicked the light covers off some time during the night and is all splayed out, long muscular legs akimbo, clad in nothing but a pair of thin boxers. His smooth chest rises and falls with the long and even breathing of the deeply and peacefully asleep. It almost seems a shame to wake him. Almost.

Chris scoots carefully down the bed until he's nose-level with Sebastian's navel. He glances up, but Sebastian doesn't stir. He leans in and kisses Sebastian's bare belly, then licks down that spot where the treasure trail should be if not for Marvel's mandatory wax job. He hovers a bit around the waistband of Sebastian's boxers until a slight smile plays across Sebastian's lips and then broadens, inviting him further.

He slowly slips the waistband down just enough to expose the cowled tip of Sebastian's cock. The soft foreskin is like velvet against his lips. He takes his time, alternating between kisses and licks before he takes Sebastian's hardening length fully into his mouth. It's the sound of Sebastian moaning, the way his body writhes, the sharp little gasps that get to him. His own cock stiffens in response and his hips start doing their own thing, grinding up against Sebastian's leg. But he keeps being drawn back to that uncircumcised skin, teasing it with tongue and teeth, and suddenly he's overcome with the desire to feel that skin on himself.

He's on his knees now between Sebastian's legs, the tip of his cock pressed up against the tip of Sebastian's. He wraps his hand around Sebastian's shaft and pulls slowly, gently drawing the foreskin over the head of both cocks. The sight of them joined up like that makes his breath quicken and his dick harden even more with raw need. He jerks them both off, until Sebastian's back arches and his hips buck and his come makes the foreskin a slick mess around them both. As good as it feels it's not enough to get Chris to climax so Sebastian intervenes, taking him in hand and getting him off with a few rough and fast strokes.

Chris collapses and they lie in each others arms, the sweat on their bodies cooling and their breathing slowly returning to normal. Sebastian glances at the alarm clock on the nightstand and starts.

“Shit! Gotta go.”

He breaks away and begins gathering up his clothes. Chris watches him get dressed, the insidious coil of worry starting to tangle in his guts again.

“So, are we good?” he asks.

Sebastian gives him a quizzical look as he buttons the last few buttons on his shirt.

“Yeah, we're good. Why wouldn't we be?”

“I don't know, I just...I don't want this to make things weird.”

“Are you kidding?” Sebastian laughs. “It's gonna make everything totally weird.”

Of course, he knows that. That's why he'd been fighting it for so long. If this thing that's happening between them – whatever it is – turns out to have been a mistake, he just prays it's not a catastrophic one.

Sebastian must pick up on his anxiety because his smile fades. He climbs back into bed and hovers over Chris, staring intently into his eyes.

“But that's okay,” he says, calm and reassuring. “We'll figure it out.”

He leans in and kisses Chris, long and deep and slow. When he finally breaks it off and gets up to go, it's all good.

_Yeah, we'll figure it out._

And this time Chris totally believes it.

 

END

 


End file.
